trash_mod: (Default)
trash mod ([personal profile] trash_mod) wrote in [community profile] biotrash2014-03-19 04:11 pm

BIOSHOCK KINK MEME

Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires

- bioshock trash crew proverb







== A RAPTURE REMINDER: ==

PROMPTS AND FILLS WITH INFORMATION ON BURAL AT SEA 2 ARE SPOILERS.

THIS POST IS A SPOILER FREE ZONE UNTIL APRIL 27th.
PLEASE ADD ALL SPOILERY PROMPTS AND FILLS TO THIS POST UNTIL THAT TIME.

Spoilery comments to this post will be deleted, and their authors vanished in the night to volunteer in our city's fine Protector Program.

Thank you for your attention. Have a nice day!




Welcome to the Bioshock kink meme.

You can find a semi-frequently-updated list of prompts, with links and an indication of whether they've been filled, here at the index.



it is a kink meme. people anonymously (or not) request fic and pictures; other people anonymously (or not) write that fic and draw those pictures. everyone masturbates, peace is achieved.



there are two ways to take part!

1) start a new comment thread with a pairing/ship, and a kink. there's a kink masterlist here if you find yourself strapped for ideas.

2) swoop into an existing comment thread, and fill the person's request with art or writing. if someone's already filled the request, go for it anyway -- the more the merrier! if you need somewhere to upload/host images, try imgur.



there are some beautiful gems on the old kink memes. if you want an example of how this whole thing works, or you're digging for gold, look no further: on Livejournal, on Dreamwidth.


NOW GO FORTH AND MULTIPLY, MY CHILDREN

sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 05:15 pm (UTC)(link)
THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT

Re: sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 05:18 pm (UTC)(link)
i cannot fathom the identity of any person who could have conceivably written this prompt

Re: sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-19 18:37 (UTC) - Expand

Re: sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-20 19:12 (UTC) - Expand

Re: sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-20 19:40 (UTC) - Expand

anon who requested

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-20 21:00 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 03:25 (UTC) - Expand

Re: sofia lamb / mark meltzer, mind control

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-03 17:01 (UTC) - Expand

Jack and Atlas take a field trip the the medical pavilion

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 07:48 pm (UTC)(link)
and shit goes down. DON'T LOOK AT ME.

Re: Jack and Atlas take a field trip the the medical pavilion

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 03:57 pm (UTC)(link)
... any particular kind of shit you want to see go down or can I get crazy? Level of gore you're okay with (i mean i'm assuming since uh that's basically the med pavilion's wallpaper)? and, uh. other preferences?

other detail-asking anon

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-22 22:42 (UTC) - Expand

second detail-asking anon

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-29 22:33 (UTC) - Expand

first detail-asking anon

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-30 01:20 (UTC) - Expand

Re: first detail-asking anon

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-30 08:26 (UTC) - Expand

the proud can feel: part one

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-23 21:54 (UTC) - Expand

Re: the proud can feel: part one

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-28 13:33 (UTC) - Expand

Re: the proud can feel: part one

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-28 14:17 (UTC) - Expand

Re: the proud can feel: part one

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-30 02:56 (UTC) - Expand

Re: the proud can feel: part one

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-30 08:25 (UTC) - Expand

the proud can feel: part two

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-29 22:13 (UTC) - Expand

Re: the proud can feel: part two

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-30 05:08 (UTC) - Expand

Re: the proud can feel: part two (author anon)

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-30 07:37 (UTC) - Expand

Re: the proud can feel: part two (author anon)

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-03 19:06 (UTC) - Expand

Not Just Skin Deep

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-02 11:30 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Not Just Skin Deep

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-02 17:45 (UTC) - Expand

Author anon

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-02 22:07 (UTC) - Expand

Fontaine tries splicing..

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 07:58 pm (UTC)(link)
..to improve his "monument tower." Mixed results. Go crazy.

Andrew Ryan/Father Comstock

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 08:01 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't care what circumstances, I don't care where you want to go with it. I just want to see what might happen.

Julie Langford gets wood

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 08:02 pm (UTC)(link)
you heard me

Now you're thinking with portals

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 08:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Elizacest, with optional Robert/Rosalind

Re: Now you're thinking with portals

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)
SECONDED!!!

jatlas, would-you-kindly with Jack aware of it

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 08:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Post-reveal, but before Jack is cured of WYK, Fontaine decides to have some fun with him. Jack is aware of the mind control and tries to fight it, but try as he might, he succumbs.

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)
I got this covered.

/cracks knuckles

Kindness

[personal profile] unkindly - 2014-03-20 04:42 (UTC) - Expand

same anon

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-20 09:04 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] unkindly - 2014-03-20 15:23 (UTC) - Expand

Fontaine/Diane snuff

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
'Snuff said

Porn Star AU, Sander Cohen and/or his disiples

(Anonymous) 2014-03-19 09:36 pm (UTC)(link)
I think that pretty much sums it up tbh. Whoever you want doing whatever you want, on camera for money. It can be pwp, or an actual story, w/e, I'm as easy as they are.

Bonus points for making it at least somewhat happy!

Re: Porn Star AU, Sander Cohen and/or his disiples

(Anonymous) 2014-05-22 05:18 am (UTC)(link)
So I've seen this prompt so many times and can I just scream. SECONDED

jack/big daddy (atlas), mind control, BIG daddies

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 02:05 am (UTC)(link)
"would you kidnly go get fucked by a big daddy."

atlas wants to watch

Re: jack/big daddy (atlas), mind control, BIG daddies

(Anonymous) 2014-03-22 08:28 pm (UTC)(link)
workin' on it now

Re: jack/big daddy (atlas), mind control, BIG daddies

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-28 05:59 (UTC) - Expand

Re: jack/big daddy (atlas), mind control, BIG daddies

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-02 03:02 (UTC) - Expand

Fontaine/Ryan/Tenenbaum, gunplay

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 02:07 am (UTC)(link)
omg I don't even care what happens

Sander/Ryan, one-sided, masturbation

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
Sander pines for Ryan angrily, artistically; faps.

Portraiture (in which sander cohen keeps workin' and starts jerkin')

(Anonymous) 2014-03-25 01:32 am (UTC)(link)
Ryan. Ryan. Ryan. Ryan. The man’s image is everywhere in Rapture, and yet somehow it never finds its way to the audience of Sander Cohen’s shows any more. To his galleries or openings. Not even to his bedroom.

The damned man couldn’t possibly think of Cohen as one of his many mistresses, to be fucked in summer and cast aside in fall. That possibility is out of the question. He’s Sander Cohen, and even the mighty landlord of Rapture itself doesn’t treat him that way. And yet… the pattern is the same. In the summer of their relationship, Andrew Ryan could often be seen striding up the mosaiced paths of Fort Frolic to visit his artist. And now, only leaves lie on the ground.

Cohen scrapes his brush across the canvas, drawing the cruel line of an eyebrow. Then he snarls and flings his paintbrush against the wall.

The face! He can’t get the damned face right!

Trying to paint the man from photographs and memories — it’s useless!

“Fitzpatrick!”

The young pianist opens the studio door as if it’s rigged to explode.

“Mr Cohen?”

“Don’t creep, Fitzpatrick, come in!” Cohen orders, keeping his voice to a very reasonable shout. “Why must everybody around me creep? Are you mice? Look at this canvas, Fitzpatrick. What do you see?”

Fitzpatrick turns wary eyes on the canvas. He knows the answer, Cohen can tell he knows the answer, and the fact that he doesn’t reply straight away is infuriating.

“It’s Andrew Ryan,” says Fitzpatrick at last.

“Andrew Ryan,” repeats Cohen. He draws out the syllables for so much longer than Fitzpatrick did, though he no longer knows if he desires or detests their flavour. “And what do you not see?”

The man looks at the canvas for longer this time, his good eye wide, his lazy eye doing a desperate little search of its own.

“A-ah…”

“Andrew Ryan is not sitting for it,” Cohen thunders. “Has he replied to my message?”

“He said he was busy,” says Fitzpatrick, looking Cohen in the face, but only just.

Cohen breathes out heavily.

Busy. Cohen sends him a personal invitation that most of Rapture’s elite would kill for, and the man is busy.

“Get out of my sight.”

Fitzpatrick gratefully escapes.

Cohen turns his glare back on the canvas. Just like the man himself, the image he wants to paint keeps changing. Should it be kind or cruel? Should the eyes look at him, or beyond him? Should the mouth be tight and stern, or should its lips be parted, leading the eye to blushing skin and a delicate sheen of sweat?

Right now it’s a mess. A fractured amalgam of impressions.

Perhaps that’s appropriate.

He loads another brush with paint, and attacks the canvas, painting with more fever than before. Disregarding those parts of the face that look down at him with stirring iron. Disregarding those parts of the face that stare past him as if he’s not there. Letting them fracture away, and focusing on the last image he had of Ryan.

Of Ryan’s eyelids half-lowered, and the breath warm and sweet in his mouth. Of Ryan’s lower lip trapped between his teeth, coming away pink and wet. Of Ryan’s eyes rolled back and his voice escaping in climax.

Cohen drags in a heavy breath, stroking himself through his trousers as he paints.

Soon he’s hard, and the head of his cock presses uncomfortably against his fly. He opens his trousers and lets it jump free, curving up towards the somber face and waiting mouth of the painted Andrew Ryan. He adds small white beads of moisture to Ryan’s tongue, and while he does so he licks his fingers and draws a wet stripe up the underside of his own cock. The breath shudders in and out of his throat.

If only Ryan would arrive now. If only he’d come in and see Cohen, erect and beautiful and full of the fire of creation, and remember what he’s been neglecting. If only he’d take out his own thick manhood and let Cohen take it in his mouth, let him taste the power and drive that built this city.

He starts stroking his own cock in long, powerful movements, pretending that the hand around it is Ryan’s. Pretending that he can feel Ryan’s fingers at his entrance, slicked and cold. The strokes of paint on the canvas are getting messier, but that’s passion. That’s emotion. Let the realists keep their dead canvases full of colour and empty of lust. He paints a thick burgandy line around the outline of Ryan’s face and imagines it’s the blood warming his veins.

He feels tight all over now, feverishly warm, his hand squeezing his swollen cock. Ryan, Ryan, Ryan, Ryan. His painting is still wrong. There’s still something missing, some artistic leap he has to make. It’s his burden as an artist to always be innovating, always working, never satisfied. It’s a burden that Ryan understands, because he shares that fire.

They’re joined. One.

Cohen pictures the man right behind him, chest pressed to Cohen’s shoulderblades, manhood pushing inside him. Demanding. Impossible to refuse. He moans and the hand around his cock moves in fast, jerky rhythm.

And then he understands what he has to do. His muse finally whispers to him what this painting needs to be complete.

He squeezes himself with one hand. He brings the other to his own throat, brush still threaded between his fingers, and pretends that it’s Ryan’s strong hand cutting off his air. His face prickles as if touched by ghosts. The painting before his eyes sharpens, then blurs, and he can almost feel Ryan’s hot breath on the back of his neck.

Everything focuses itself on the twisting knot of intensity in his low abdomen. The feeling of pleasure swells and swells, and his lungs begin to pull for air, and at last he comes hard with Andrew Ryan’s name on his lips.

Flashing lights chase him through his orgasm. It leaves him panting and trembling with his trousers around his knees.

Cohen flexes his hands to get the stiffness out, and refocuses his eyes. The canvas in front of him is streaked with new lines of dribbling white.

The pride that fills him is almost erotic in its own right.

It’s finished.

Re: Sander/Ryan, one-sided, masturbation

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-26 22:51 (UTC) - Expand

Sander/disciples, coercion, non-con

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 02:09 am (UTC)(link)
WHAT DID HE DO TO THEM????? SEXUALLY??????

Re: Sander/disciples, coercion, non-con

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
oh no I really want this...
/hides face in shame

Re: Sander/disciples, coercion, non-con

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-12 05:18 (UTC) - Expand

Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
they touch mustaches

Re: Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) 2014-03-23 11:03 am (UTC)(link)
this will happen at some point i promise D:

Re: Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-23 15:17 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-24 01:06 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-24 01:09 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-24 14:14 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-24 19:39 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-29 00:47 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Fontaine/Ryan

(Anonymous) - 2014-10-15 00:48 (UTC) - Expand

sander/jack, fellatio

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 02:23 am (UTC)(link)
sander lets jack suck his dick as a reward for a job well done

Re: sander/jack, fellatio

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 11:22 am (UTC)(link)
quietly starts to write this........

jack/atlas, feeding, stuffing, belly

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 04:09 am (UTC)(link)
atlas feeds jack because it is my fetish

Re: jack/atlas, feeding, stuffing, belly

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 03:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Any preferences for circumstances or food or what-have-you, because I could think of a few ways this could go down...

Re: jack/atlas, feeding, stuffing, belly

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-20 16:48 (UTC) - Expand

Re: jack/atlas, feeding, stuffing, belly

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-20 18:04 (UTC) - Expand

frank/jack, mind control, humiliation, non-con, rough sex

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
frank fontaine fucking jack, wyk still in effect, frank just laughing and making fun of him and jack is scared and mad and helpless

Elizabeth pegs a dude

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 09:42 am (UTC)(link)
Liz is a strong cool lady who pegs a manly dude (atlas? Booker?) who absolutely loves her taking charge.

This could alternatively be done with the Lutece twins.

No non-con, pain, or anything that belongs in a bathroom, thank you.

(sorry it's kind of short)

(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 05:28 pm (UTC)(link)
“I’m never going to get this in if you can’t relax,” Elizabeth said impatiently, pausing her efforts to take another drag on her cigarette. The man they called Atlas squeaked slightly, his face pressed against the desk in his office. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and pulled back again, finishing the cigarette off and lighting another.

“Maybe if we used more lube?” Atlas tried not to whimper, but he wasn’t very successful.

“Nope.” Elizabeth said, not even bothering to take the cigarette out of her mouth. “Lube is not the problem.” She shook her head and smiled inside. No matter how much he protested, no matter how ashamed it made him feel, Elizabeth knew that Atlas was going to enjoy this. She threw caution to the wind and leaned into him with her full body weight.

His eyes shot wide and veins bulged in his neck and face. She could tell he was desperately trying to remain expressionless, but the strap on was still sliding further and further in. As her pressure slowed, he betrayed himself with a slight twitch of his hips, bringing her hilt deep. She could see the muscles in his legs working furiously as he fought to remain standing.

“That good, huh?”

Atlas pursed his lips, blushing crimson. She slowly started to pull out and a groan tore from from him, making him blush even further. She smirked at him, taking another lungful of smoke as she started to thrust in and out of him. She met some resistance, he was very tight. One hand riding his quivering ass with cigarette in tow, the other sneaking around to grip his firm cock, she understood the appeal of the position. The view was splendid.

She laughed at him as his eyes rolled back in his head and he started moaning regularly. She thought about making fun of him. About demanding that he tell her that he wants her, making him beg her to fuck him. The drool threading from his mouth to the desk as he was pressed and dragged across it said everything however, and the way he gritted his teeth against the grunts and groans that issued throatily from him was humiliation enough… for today.

Replacing the cigarette in her mouth, Elizabeth used her free hand to pull his hips towards her, thrusting deeper and deeper with every motion. She worked in rhythm with the hand around his cock, squeezing and dragging faster and faster as he writhed against the table beneath her. Atlas’ body convuled, his moans turning to gasps, and Liz felt a certain rush between her own legs as her own arousal caught up slightly.

She could tell he was close and she quickened her pace, no longer holding back in any capacity. She slammed him against the table over and over as he screamed beneath her, finally slowing her pace as he gushed out on the floor, dragging his orgasm out until he collapsed beneath her, sweating and panting for air. Elizabeth waited with her eyebrows raised, lighting another cigarette and unstrapping the device.

“Where...where did you find that thing?” Atlas asked in wonder.

“Oh, just lying around,” Elizabeth said, showing him that “FONTAINE FUTURISTICS” was printed in large bold letters along the side.

Epilogue

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 17:30 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Epilogue

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 19:34 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Epilogue

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 22:37 (UTC) - Expand

from anon who wrote this

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-26 00:37 (UTC) - Expand

Re: from anon who wrote this

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-03 19:11 (UTC) - Expand

it is an art fill

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 19:24 (UTC) - Expand

Re: it is an art fill

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 19:33 (UTC) - Expand

Re: it is an art fill

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 22:36 (UTC) - Expand

subject delta/alex the great, fluff, feeding

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 12:12 pm (UTC)(link)
armed with a handful of patience, a smidgen of recklessness, and an armful of ADAM plants, good/savior delta attempts to calm alex down.

Tenentaine, shaving

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 04:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Tenenbaum likes it when Fontaine shaves his head~

Jack/Fontaine, Circumcision

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 05:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Fontaine decides he wants to change things up a little.

jack/radio

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 06:10 pm (UTC)(link)
stick your dick in the radio

Re: jack/radio

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 06:12 pm (UTC)(link)
seconded

Getting Some Radiohead

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-27 21:55 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Getting Some Radiohead

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-03 00:18 (UTC) - Expand

atlassss readerficcccc

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
would you kindly??

Re: atlassss readerficcccc

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 07:30 pm (UTC)(link)
ALLRIGHT LET'S DO THIS.



Your work shift had ended and, like so many other days, you sat on the metro in silence and rode it back to Apollo Square. Coming home used to feel like a welcome respite, but now the evening commute is the worst part of your day. Photos of missing people line the walls of the station, dotted with small offerings of flowers and candles. Some of them were people you knew. You walk past the sad memorial-- and then there's the square itself. Of all the things that have changed since the rebellion began, none is worse than the way Ryan has turned this place into an open-air prison, rounding traitors up and shoving them inside to rot. The richer citizens of Rapture can afford to ignore the place, but you live in a one-bedroom apartment in Artemis Suites. You're forced to walk past it twice a day, every day.

You're alone in one of Rapture's many streets when you hear running, heavy and booted, behind you. The short hairs on the back of your neck prickle and you turn, terrified you are about to be mugged. Three men barrel toward you. There isn't enough time to react as one claps a firm hand over your mouth, another grabs you by the waist and a third raises something above your head. There is a glint of metal, he swings--

--when you wake up, you're being bustled down a set of stairs and into a small room. Warm lamplight glows dimly from a desk. You're being held by many hands-- being carried? You open your mouth to protest but the cries fall short as a voice says

"Jaysus, did you have to hit the kid so hard?"

Your vision comes into focus. There is a man in front of you. Dark hair with a gentle curl, a plain work shirt rolled up to the elbows, suspenders-- he could be any old Fontaine Fisheries dock worker, but the accent with which he speaks assures you he is not.

"That'll do boys. I think I can handle things from here."

There's some gruff laughter as you are roughly let go, falling to your knees on the floorboards in front of Atlas. Three pairs of boots thunder up the stairs. A door shuts behind them. The pair of you are left in silence.

The revolutionary leader puts his hands on his hips and regards you.

"They aren't the most subtle of lads," he says, almost like an apology. "Can't say they picked wrong, though. You're a pretty little thing, aren't ya?"

"Pretty?" you ask. Your head is still throbbing. You aren't anyone of importance and you don't have any ADAM. What in hell could the leader of the rebels want you for?

As if in answer, he moves over to his desk. He picks something up, then looks over at you, grinning. He takes a step back over, and you can see something small gleaming in his hand. A syringe with a long needle.

"Know what this is, sweetheart?" he asks. You scramble to your feet and begin to back away. He's already blocked the staircase off with his steady, predatory approach. You retreat further into the room, hoping for a door or a weapon you can defend yourself with. You don't know what the needle is for, but you can't imagine it's anything you're going to like.

Atlas advances quickly and before you can do anything about it, he's got you backed into a corner. He pins you to the wall with one hand firmly on your shoulder and a knee pushed up, between your legs. You swing at him. He releases the grip on your shoulder only to grab you by the wrist. He holds it out, away from your body, and pushes his side into you to keep you pinned.

"Sshh, sshh now," he reassures, rubbing a thumb over the pulsing blue of your vein. The other hand lifts, holds the needle down to your skin, and with a soft push it punctures your flesh.

You begin to scream, your eyes shut tight with pain and your body wracked with shaking as the chemicals enter your system. Somewhere you can here a voice saying "steady now, kid, steady!" before the world goes dark.

You open your eyes to see him, Atlas, sitting across the room from you in a chair. He smokes a cigarette and watches as you rise from your crumpled pile on the floor.

"Easy there, champ," he says. "I just did a hell of a number on your genetic code. Would you kindly tell me how it feels?"

You stare blearily at him, but the words come easily. "Dizzy," you say. He chuckles.

"Foine, fine. T'be expected, really. Would you kindly come over here?"

As if in a dream, you step over and stand beside the chair he sits in. He looks you up and down.

"Aren't we obedient," he says with a grin. "Let's try something a bit harder. Be honest now, love. Are ya scared of me?"

You nod vigorously. "Yes."

"And would y'like me to let you leave now so you can get safe back home?"

"Yes," you say again.

"Wonderful. Would you kindly take off your clothes instead?"

Your eyes widen for a fraction of a moment, then robotically, efficiently, you reach for the top button of your shirt and begin to comply. Atlas nods approvingly and blows cigarette smoke at you.

"Funny thing about leading a rebellion," he says as you remove your top. "You give a speech, and even the ones who aren't on your side want t'hear it. Easy enough to be heard by the masses, but with the right frequencies and the right phrases worked in, add a plasmid to the mix…" he trails off, his gaze lowering as your undo the zipper at your waist and shrug off the bottom half of your outfit, followed by your underwear.

"Well," he says, smirking, "let's just say I'm pleased with the results, darlin'."

You finish disrobing, your clothes and shoes a small pile at your feet. Atlas pats a hand on his knee.

"Sit down right here, would you kindly."

You shiver in the open air, but take the two steps over to him and sit, your bare thighs draped across his clothed ones. You can feel a growing hardness against your ass. He hooks an arm around your back and lets his hand hover at the crook of your hips, thumb running idly along your pelvic bone. He inhales on the cigarette, then holds it out to you. His smile is earnest and kind as he makes his next request.

"Burn yourself, would you kindly."

Your brain reacts as it must, but instinct works in your favor. You quickly imagine the least painful spot you can, take the cigarette, and lower it to the palm of your other hand. He places a hand firmly over your wrist and pauses the motion.

"Oh, very smart," he says, sounding amused. "Let's pick somewhere else though, aye?" his hand lets go of your wrist only to smooth it's way down your neck, over your chest, just around the side of your hips and lower until it settles at your inner thigh. He gives the sensitive area a squeeze, and you whimper audibly.

"Put that cigarette right here, would you kindly" he says. You shudder as your muscles already twitch to carry out the command, your legs spreading wider apart in his lap as you lower the cigarette and-- you bite down on your lips, choking back a loud scream. He pulls you to him, his lips and teeth running small nips over the length of your collarbone, all the way down to your nipples, as he murmurs quiet praise. You cry out. The pain fades away slowly, and his mouth on your skin is building up an unwanted heat between your legs. He hooks a hand under your chin and brings your eyes up to meet his. His other hand runs down your body to cup your crotch, testing your arousal. What he finds there makes him smirk.

"Aren't you a sick little thing?" he asks. For the first time, you attempt to jerk away. His eyes narrow as he grabs you firmly by your hair, tugging you back into place. With an easy shrug of his shoulders the suspenders fall away, and he lowers one hand to undo the button of his trousers.

"Ever sucked a man off before, love?" he asks, freeing himself of his pants and rubbing his stiff erection against your bare skin.

"I-" you begin.

"I don't actually care," he interrupts you. "On your knees, would you kindly, and put that mouth to work."

Atlas relaxes back into the chair as you clamber off him, your knees hitting the hard, dirty wood of the floor. You take him in one hand and your mouth lowers down onto his thick girth. He groans and wraps a strong hand into your hair.

"Jaysus, kid," he says, pushing you further down. His hips jerk up, thrusting his cock into your throat. Tears well at the corners of your eyes as your force yourself not to gag. He holds you still and close to him while he repeats the rhythm, over and over. You try to mumble out a protest, but if the catch of his breath is any indication, the noise only serves to arouse him. He thrusts up a little harder and you dig your nails into his legs at the feeling.

A few more groans on his part, and then you feel your hair being tugged sharply. You rise, taking in deep gasps of air. Atlas rises as well, pushing you up against the desk and lifting you until your ass balances on the edge and your back leans against a wall. He slaps your thighs lightly.

"Hold these open for me, would you kindly," he says. You comply, wrapping your arms underneath your knees and bringing them wide apart. He squeezes your ass with one hand while the other traces a faint outline around your entrance. To your shame, it makes you moan. He raises an eyebrow at the noise and his touches become rougher as he slowly, methodically, begins to work you over.

"That's just perfect," he hisses between heavy breaths. "Nice and ready for me, aren't ya?" Two fingers retract, only to be replaced by the tip of his cock. You whimper, but your hands keep yourself spread for him. He palms your chest, pinching one nipple. His lips descend over your ear and he murmurs

"Would you kindly beg to be Atlas' little whore?"

A series of high-pitched pleads and nonsensical begging tumbles out of your lips, your voice more desperate than you have ever heard it. He groans, "fuck, yes," at your words and pushes himself inside. You feel stretched, instantly and perfectly filled. He wastes no time in building his pace up, no thought is spared for your comfort, and you cry out as the length of him pumps into you violently. Even between cries, you find that you can't stop begging. Each request from your lips causes his hands at your waist to clench harder, his brows to furrow as sweat builds on his forehead and his cock continues to abuse your tight insides.

"That's it, kid, take," he grunts, "take it-- ah!"

Ribbons of hot cum shoot into you as he moans over your shaking body and buries himself inside it. He applies a delicate, teasing set of fingers to your sex and within moments you are screaming in orgasm. His face is a satisfied smirk, sweaty and drunk with pleasure as your climax tenses you around him in the final moments of his release. Your hands grip the table and his grip you as you stay together a moment, shuddering and breathing hard. Finally he stands up straight, withdrawing from you and collapsing back into his chair. He pulls another cigarette out and lights it, watching you as you struggle to come back down, his cum slowly dripping out of you and onto the surface of the desk.

"Welcome to the rebellion, darlin'," he sighs, exhaling smoke.

Re: atlassss readerficcccc

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-20 19:31 (UTC) - Expand

Re: atlassss readerficcccc

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-20 19:36 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 03:24 (UTC) - Expand

Re: atlassss readerficcccc

[personal profile] spliced_irish - 2014-03-25 12:48 (UTC) - Expand

Jack/Atlas, Masturbation/Voyeurism

(Anonymous) 2014-03-20 11:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Jack jacks off to the idea of Atlas fucking him hard and painfully like the little masochist he is
Atlas watches and/or listens

Re: Jack/Atlas, Masturbation/Voyeurism

(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 04:07 am (UTC)(link)
IM GONNA FILL IT with my cum

Re: Jack/Atlas, Masturbation/Voyeurism

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 07:34 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Jack/Atlas, Masturbation/Voyeurism

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 15:51 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Jack/Atlas, Masturbation/Voyeurism

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 16:02 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Jack/Atlas, Masturbation/Voyeurism

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 16:25 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Jack/Atlas, Masturbation/Voyeurism

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 20:27 (UTC) - Expand

Re: Jack/Atlas, Masturbation/Voyeurism

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 21:25 (UTC) - Expand

[art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 03:42 am (UTC)(link)
u guys are artists right. how about some broad faced, broad nosed, broad shouldered jack. bleeding, bare, dancing the merengue on a pile of splicer corpses, I don't give a darn. just some canon-ass jack.

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) 2014-03-21 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
possibly filling this! do you have a particular preference?

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 05:24 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 05:54 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 06:59 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-24 21:29 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-28 00:34 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-21 22:33 (UTC) - Expand

i am going to draw something new for this

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-22 01:14 (UTC) - Expand

Re: i am going to draw something new for this

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-22 05:33 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-03-22 01:42 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-02 00:44 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-02 17:50 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

(Anonymous) - 2014-04-04 21:09 (UTC) - Expand

Re: [art request] canon jack

[personal profile] fenrize - 2015-02-22 11:09 (UTC) - Expand

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